Brotherly Love
by Tangerine Catnip
Summary: The assassins are hunting down a Templar leader in London when Desmond runs into Shaun's twin brother Danny while running from Templar agents. He Mistakes Danny for Shaun and ends up dragging him along for the ride. Eventual Desmond/Danny/Shaun.
1. The Mistake

(Up until now chapter one and two of this story have been posted on DA, if you've read them feel free to skip to chapter 3)

My little misadventure started one day when I was innocently strolling down the high street. I was evidently going somewhere at the time, because it's not like me to be randomly strolling around on a dank drizzly London afternoon. All the same, I can't say I remember what it was I was doing before that strange bloke in the white hoodie came barrelling down the street, sprinting passed me and nearly knocking both of us over.

I fought to keep my footing, wincing as his trainers made an ear wrenching screeching sound as they scraped across the pavement. Eventually he came to a halt and whirled around, looking back passed me to somewhere down the street, terror in his dark brown eyes. I looked back at him, still too confused to be annoyed about his lack of respect for my personal space.

As we stare at each other, a light of recognition entered his eyes, and I began to get that awkward feeling I have whenever I realise someone thinks they know me, but I have no idea who they are. I did my best not to show any outward signs of my confusion as I gave him another look over. Racking my brain for any memory of a short raven-haired, serious looking brown eyed bloke.

"Shaun? What are you doing out here?" he asks perplexedly, cutting in on my memory searching. I was stunned for a second.

Now there were many things I have been called in my many years on this planet. There was Dan, Danny, Daniel, D-man, Danny boy, and sometimes if the person in question was really posh they'd call me Mister Wallace. But never in my life had I been called Shaun, and Last time I checked that wasn't my name.

However with this sudden development came a sense of relief, because now that I had self established that I was never called Shaun, I was sure that he and mistaken me for someone he knew, and that he wasn't someone I had rather embarrassingly forgotten. I gave him my best apologetic look, I was about to do the rational thing and tell him politely that he must be mistaken and that I wasn't who he thought I was. But my well meant and good natured apology was cut off when a shout came from down the street.

I caught a glimpse of worry and fear in the other mans eyes before both of us turned our heads. The attention quickly fell to the irritated looking platoon of armed guards who were tearing down the street behind us. Presumably this was the reason that the hoodie-clad man had been running in the first place, although my thoughts on this were short-lived, because while I have never been chased by a platoon of armed guards before, I have watched enough television and movies to get the impression that standing still in such a situation was never the smartest thing to do.

It seemed my newfound acquaintance agreed with me on that point, because it was then that he took hold of my arm and almost physically dragged me down the street that I had been until now been peacefully strolling on.

For the first few meters I kept pace just fine, but soon an awful burn began to grow in my chest and we had barely cleared the second block before I found myself struggling to keep up with him. A fact that I found rather disconcerting at the time, because sure, I was no track star, but I worked out! I ate my organic carrot batons and fair-trade bananas. I even took yoga thanks to a misguided insinuation from my friend Colin.

But when I spared a glance back at our pursuers, and realised they were far behind us, I grasped the fact that it wasn't my own physical ineptitude that was causing me to fall behind, but that my companion was moving abnormally fast.

If it wasn't for the fact that it would have sounded rather stupid to ask for someone to slow down when you're running away from a potentially life threatening situation, I certainly would have done so. Fortunately, it seemed he was getting the picture from my increasingly laboured breathing, and the growing tension on his arm as my movement became more like being dragged behind him than running alongside.

Suddenly, we whirled around and I found myself being pulled into an alley leading off the high street. A sharp yank on my arm, followed by a stab of dull pain as it was nearly pulled out of its socket from the unexpected change in direction. The unforgiving stone of one of the alley walls knocked the wind from my lungs as I was flung against it. In a second, the firm hands of the hooded man were pressing against my chest, forcing my body further into the wall. A sharp hiss of "stay here!" came uncomfortably close to my ear, and then he was gone.

When I looked back up he had already mounted a dumpster and latched onto the stone wall. Slipping his fingers into the small cracks in the brickwork, climbing up the wall in a fashion that I could only compare to Spiderman.

And that's when it hit me, this bloke must be a superhero! How else would you explain the mob of men trying to kill us? They were obviously the Henchmen of some evil villain, who had discovered the hero's secret identity and decided to attack him when he was out doing his shopping! And what dastardly villains they were, interrupting on someone's shopping! Mind you, I don't know much about Hero/Villain relationships but that seemed just a little rude to me.

But now, here I was, a lonely Citizen who happened to be caught in the middle. I looked back up to see that he had made it to the wrought iron fire escape on the side of the old building, and was fiddling with the rusted ladder release. I made up my mind then and there that despite the fact I had no marketable superpowers, I was still going to do everything I could to help this hero make his gallant escape back to his superhero cave. (Which was probably cleverly hidden under big Ben.)

The ladder hit the ground with a metallic clang and I caught a glimpse of the supposed super hero leaning over the edge. "Shaun! Come on man! The Templars are gaining." He called, pointing to the ladder like it wasn't already obvious what he wanted me to do.

The words dropped a stone in my stomach. Oh bollocks, I'd completely forgotten about the whole mistaken identity thing. I shifted on my feet guiltily, I really should come clean to him. After all it would be much easier for him to make his escape without me, and at this point continuing to pretend to be someone else would more than likely lead to some really awkward situations.

For all I knew he could have mistaken me for his super-powered sidekick. What if we get to the edge of a roof top, and he suddenly expects me to use my heat vision to make a bridge out of a nearby radio tower? Then what would I do?

Of course there was also the guards to think about... but if I could explain that I wasn't really associated with this guy they would probably let me be. In fact, having that little dealing with me would probably delay them for long enough to insure the hero's escape. Brilliant! Two birds, one stone.

I was about to call up to the other man to explain, when I heard the first gunshot. Pure terror shot through my body like a lightning bolt and before I knew it I was halfway up the ladder. My heart beating impossibly fast in my chest. Luckily, it seemed that whatever guns were being used they weren't good enough to take direct shots just yet. I just made it to the rooftop's edge when the second bullet was fired, missing my foot by centimetres and burying itself into the brickwork, tiny pieces of liberated stone and concrete sent flying.

The hooded man reached down to help me up. Waiting patiently 'till I had scrabbled up the side and collapsed on the hot tile of the roof. Then after pausing a moment to make sure I wasn't going to pass out, He turned his attention to our pursuers who were attempting to follow us up the building.

Cool as the proverbial cucumber, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a hand-sized oval. Sparing me a sideways smirk, he pulled a tiny piece of metal from its side and dropped it onto the middle landing of the fire escape.

I watched it fall. So did the armed guards, who promptly scattered to avoid it. Some even going so far as to jump to the ground, seemingly forgetting about the two story drop. A hand wrapped tight around my wrist and I was wrenched away before I could see any more of the action below, but the ground shaking explosion and shockwave of sound that followed us as we made our escape over the rooftops was more than enough to confirm my suspicions about what it was.

Now that the danger had been alleviated… or more literally blown up, the trek across the rooftops was taken at a much more human pace. Because this was a main shopping district, the stores were crowded fairly close together on this street, so the jumps from one building to another were easily manageable, though not any less exhilarating. Despite myself, I was starting to get that action hero feeling again. Leaping from rooftop to rooftop with ease, switching from hot tiles to flat gravel as we passed the different roofing types. It was almost exactly like something out of a comic book. In fact, the only way this could be more perfect was if we had long flowing capes and were wearing our pants over our trousers.

As we continued along, I tried to keep pace with the hooded stranger. Well, at least I was until he suddenly stopped short at the end of the rooftops and looked over the edge. I trotted up behind him and followed where he was looking. Observing a large metal rubbish bin at the bottom of this second alley.

Confused for a second, I wondered why we had stopped to stare at this. Then as I gazed back up to the hooded man and saw how he was looking back at me apologetically, realization came crashing down.

"Oh bloody hell no..."

"I know you hate doing this, but it's the quickest way down." He explained, shrugging his shoulders like it would only inconvenience me a little if we jumped.

Forget superhero! This man was a lunatic... I began to back away slowly, but he was having none of it. He took a few steps forward. Once again not seeming to care when he got to close for comfort. He nonchalantly locked his arms around my back, drawing us closer together. Holding me like we were a couple of teenagers slow dancing at prom. As opposed to one stark raving mental who was about to jump of a building and take a poor guiltless bystander with him.

"It's going to be okay, just close your eyes and count to ten." He cooed, in a manner not to dissimilar to a dentist reassuring his patient that it would only hurt "a little" despite the fact they both knew it was a lie and that the next few moments would be very painful indeed.

He took a few steps back, drawing us closer to the edge. I fought back obviously but to be perfectly honest I knew I hadn't the slightest chance, this bloke could climb up walls like fucking Spiderman!.. And in the end there wasn't much I could do... He didn't even have the decency to allow me the time to really start panicking before he shifted his weight back sending both of us off the edge.

Now, I suppose you've more than likely heard that when someone has a near death experience their life will flash before their eyes, or they'll see some light at the end of a tunnel, or the kind face of whatever deity they believe in welcoming them into his loving arms, while winged angels play "amazing grace" on their harpsichords.

I do not by any means pretend to be a master on the subject, and it is not my place to tell those who say they have had those kinds of experiences that they must be embellishing the story. However, I can tell you that for me there were no such godly occurrences, just the whoosh of air and the overly unsettling feeling of falling followed by a final "thump!"

At first everything was black, and for a second I was sure I was dead. Then I realized my arm was covering my eyes. I slowly removed it, peeking out from under the fabric of my jacket sleeve to find myself surrounded by puffy black rubbish bags. At first this might not sound too strange. After all when jumping into rubbish bins one would expect to find rubbish, but you have to understand that these in particular were awfully soft for rubbish bags.

A few curious pokes revealed that Instead of rubbish they were full of some sort of spongy substance, perhaps some type of foam or packing material. I pushed it out of the way and made an effort to sit back up, but I ended up just sliding back farther into the pushy mess.

I struggled for a few more seconds before it dawned on me that pushing the bags around was a lot more effective than trying to prop myself up on them, and so would have begun the laborious process of digging myself out. However once I had moved a few more out of my way I found the other man lying back comfortably among the bags, satisfied smile on his lips. "In case you haven't figured it out, this isn't a real dumpster." he clarified, grabbing the side and hauling himself up onto the edge of the rubbish bin. "It's one of the fake ones the other assassins set up. You know, because there aren't many haystacks in downtown London."

He patted the metal on the side of the can as if thanking an old dependable friend, before finally swinging himself out and over to the pavement below, offering his hand to help me do the same. Glad to have an easy way out of this rubbish bin equivalent of quicksand, I took it. Thoroughly enjoying my reunion with the ground as I stepped down onto the pavement.

"Although, I just have to say the look on your face was absolutely priceless." The hooded man added giving me a playful pat on the back. Laughing off the unamused stare I gave him in return. "Come on we can walk the rest of the way." He promised heading to the exit of the alley. Reluctantly, I followed him out.

He pushed the door open with his shoulder, stepping back, allowing me to walk passed him into a sparsely furnished living room. A few chairs and a sofa were arranged pell-mell around the room. One bizarre looking Red and white chair sat alone by the far wall among a complex array of wires, cords, and computer screens. To tell the truth, the whole thing looked like it was set up in a rush by piss drunk movers in the middle of the night.

I turned to my companion, who once inside had stopped to side his hood off his short black hair. He looked around the room, calling out to the empty flat "Hey Lucy! Rebecca!" When he didn't receive an answer he rolled his eyes at me in 'they all ways do that' sort of way and made for the stairwell, presumably to look for them.

I sighed deeply as soon as he was gone, relieved that I finally had some time to think about Just how I ended up in this stranger's flat. Of course the stickiest part of the whole situation was that this stranger was still more than likely convinced I was a guy named Shaun, and amazingly this accidental deception had lasted throughout that period of my life I had decided to generously title an "adventure" but it was slowly dawning on my that once things calmed downed and he realized that I didn't know my own favourite flavour of tea things would go to hell.

Frankly, my imagination couldn't even stretch for enough to fathom how this (possibly super-powered) chap would react at that moment of apprehension, and for those who are familiar with my usual capacity for thinking up disastrous outcomes, you can appreciate how bad this was.

Inadvertently, I started looking for escape routes and it didn't take me long to make the correct presumption that the door I had just entered through was a much better option than trying one of the windows. I wavered on my heals for a second. Baring in mind that running away is usually not a good way to solve ones problems, now might be a good idea to give it a chance.

"Looks like the girls went out."

I started and turned to face the man I had been spent the better part of my morning following. He was standing at the bottom of the steps, leaning casually against the wall. I nodded back vaguely, silently morning my thwarted escape plan.

Oh-so-casually he stepped away from the wall and circled back around, standing between me and my hoped escape route. His eyes focused on me, sweeping from head to toe, something unreadable flashing in his eyes. My heart sank, I was sure that now he had a good look at me he would've figured it out.

But as I started to work out an apology in my head, he took a few steps closer and placed a hand rather brazenly to my chest, fiddling with the zip of my jacket for a moment before commenting; "I like the new clothes, you should wear jeans more often."

Errrr... I didn't quite know what to say to that. So I just faked a smile, which quickly vanished as he gripped the piece of metal and slowly and unzipped my jacket. In response, I took a step back uncertainly, because, as you can imagine I am fairly unaccustomed to strangers unzipping my jackets.

However my new acquaintance seemed to have other plans and I soon found myself haphazardly pushed down on the couch, my hips being lazily straddled by the other man. Our Jeans rubbing up together as he settled in my lap, the ensuing friction making me quite uncomfortable in places I'd rather not mention.

"Umm…What are you doing?" I asked, my mind still too shocked by the sudden turn of events to supply me with the obvious answer. An eyebrow was raised but quickly disappeared back into that hungry glare.

"You know the rules. While the girls are away, Shaun and Desmond get to play." He chanted back his arms wrapping around my shoulders pulling us closer together. "Provided we don't wake the neighbours" he added with a smirk, leaning in and pressing his lips to the exposed skin just above the collar of my shirt.

Given that it was the middle of the day, it was unlikely anyone was asleep and I suspected this was more innuendo to me than actual concern for any of the people in the other flats. It seemed that with every passing second this mix up was getting more out of hand, and the sooner I managed to explain to err... Desmond wasn't it? Yes, the sooner I explained things to Desmond the better. I'm sure after this was all sorted out he would just let me go and we could all have a laugh about how silly this was.

But as I tried to speak up, the words were lost under an involuntary groan that made me suddenly realize how hard it is to talk when someone's giving you a love-bite, even if it is an unwilling one. His lips were firmer and his grip was tighter than the feminine kind I was used to, and it was making it very hard to stay focused.

"Ah, listen um... Desmond there must be-" I began, barely making it halfway through the sentence before the gentle nipping on my neck stopped and Desmond interrupted. "-And you say I talk to munch" he muttered rolling his dark brown eyes at me, moving in to take my lips before I had another second to protest, pressing into me till my head was resting against the back of the sofa. Cementing my entrapment.

I tried to shake my head, buck my hips, something! But no matter what I tried Desmond just kissed back harder, to him all my movements and surprised grunts were just the struggles and moans of a wanton lover.

One of his hands moved from where it was resting on my hip, they hand lifted and he hooked his fingers into the rim of my glasses, casually removing them and causing the world more than a few centimetres from my nose to lapse into one big fussy indistinctness. I heard rather than saw him place them back down, before the hand that had removed them found a brief respite on the front of my trousers.

I tried to struggle a little more beneath his muscular frame desperately trying to get the message across that I wasn't into this, but it was getting harder... Because well, he had removed my glasses...

That's one of the things about being short sighted. Without my specs everything dissolves into blurry shapes and when that sense is blunted you tend to draw back into your own mind. All of a sudden the real world seems just a little further away and it becomes easer... easer to think, relax, submit...

I felt determined fingers beginning to unfasten my belt buckle and in a grand testament to how my mind was slipping, for a moment I found myself wondering if I was wearing the pants with the goofy polka dots on them, like whether or not I was wearing decent undergarments was the most important thing to be worried about right now.

My belt gradually slid out of its belt loops and my Jeans go loose around my hips. Desmond's hands find my own and soon the very same piece of leather that had been around my hips is being tightened around one of my wrists. He grips the second wrist and glides it next to the first, pinning my hands above my head then binding them together with the makeshift restraints. I blinked up at the White and tan blob that was the man who was so lustfully pinning me down, terrified of what he would do next…

* * *

><p>Shaun Hastings was not having a good day. It had been nearly three hours since he had left to do some grocery shopping. The mundane task falling to him like always, while the "real" assassins went gallivanting off after the Knights Templar like lemmings off a cliff.<p>

Sadly, his absence from London for a good few years had not done a great deal for his sense of direction, and getting lost in the overcrowded city was as annoying and tedious as it was inevitable. he had gotten lost a total of five times since he left the local Tesco and that combined with a smattering of typical London drizzle, had created a foul mood that even the comfort of being back in his own country and the ability to finally be able to buy decent scones, couldn't overturn.

So when Shaun finally returned to the assassin's flat-turned-hideout to find his boyfriend of three months with his hand down the pants of another man? Well there wasn't even a word for how enraged he was.

the shopping bags hit the floor, giving Desmond only a seconds warning for when his hood was grabbed and tugged violently backward until he ended up sprawled eagle on the hardwood floorboards. Brown eyes looked up with an anger that soon changed to intense confusion as he saw Shaun standing over him. Wearing different clothes, still in possession of his glasses, and his hands not tied together with his own belt.

Shaun's attention shifted from his disloyal boyfriend to the man he had been fawning over, who was scrunched up on the other end of the sofa his hands still bound, eye staring but clearly unfocused. It occurred to Shaun that he looked ridiculously familiar. Then it clicked and his heart skipped a beat, anger quickly being overshadowed by many more confusing emotions.

He Ignored Desmond who was still on the floor looking from Shaun to his lookalike, his jabbering reminiscent of a confused dodo bird. The British assassin walked over to his double and freed his hands, resting the belt on the sofa before trying to locate the glasses he knew the other wore.

The pieces of this situation slowly came together as he searched. It didn't take a master of forethought and planning, (which he definitely was) to add up Desmond's confusion and the presence of his body double, to get a vague idea of what had happened in his absence. Of course he didn't know all the details, but those could be explained by Desmond after they got this little mater shorted out.

Finding the desired pair of spectacles in the space under the sofa, Shaun retrieved them and passed them to his twin, Danny took them cautiously. Shaun mentally crossed his fingers hoping that Danny recognised him even after all this time, which he later realised was a rather daft notion all he had to do was look in a mirror to know what Shaun looked like.

Thankfully, once Danny had been rejoined with his specs and finally looked back up at his savour, his eyes widened and his jaw dropped, regarding Shaun as if he had just seen a ghost.

Shaun smiled awkwardly unsure of how to address someone who you haven't seen or talked to in the last seven years. "Afternoon Daniel…." He started, and then got stuck and finishing lamely with "long time no see..." Danny gazed back at him, seemingly as lost for words as his doppelganger.

In an effort to break the uncomfortable silence, Shaun shifted his attention over his shoulder to glare at Desmond, who had gotten up off the floor in the last few minutes but was still looking horribly bewildered. A spike of vindictiveness set off in Shaun's mind and He promptly decided that an excellent way to clear things up and begin his revenge on Desmond, was to go ahead and drop the bombshell.

"Desmond, I would like you to meet my twin brother Danny."

* * *

><p>I felt like an absolute idiot, someone named Shaun who could be mistaken for me? That should have been obvious. Maybe it was just after all those years since he had disappeared part of me wouldn't let myself remember the times when we used to get mistaken for the other on a dally basses. Or perhaps I wouldn't let myself believe he would ever be a part of my life again.<p>

Thare was a lot of explaining that would need to be done, because none of this made any sense. I half expected to wake up to discover this had been some kind of nonsensical dream. However I didn't wake up and we just kept looking at each other. I don't remember thinking I should hug him but I ended up doing it anyway. The aching that had started somewhere deep inside my chest dulling as he returned the gesture.


	2. Awkward Mornings for Men

Desmond was asleep. Not that he knew it of course, people rarely do. It wasn't that he thought he was awake though, it was more that he really didn't think about it. He was far too preoccupied by the fantastic world created by the human imagination when the body is at rest.

But the world that he was enjoying at the moment was a far cry from the common conception of a dreamscape. Away from the candy cane forest and Gumdrop Rivers, Desmond was dreaming much closer to home, and of nothing quite so innocent.

_Two auburn eyes looked up at him from under a fringe of short ginger hair. The normally perfectly spiked locks getting steadily messier as their owner squirmed around on the unmade bedspread. Desmond worked his arms round those restless hips, resting more of his weight against the body beneath him as encouragement to lie still. _

_Desmond took a moment to stare back into those wary eyes hiding behind clear lenses, exactly like his lover in every single detail, except lacking that cold cynical glint and gaining a touch of hesitation and worry. Emotions that Shaun had never shown in the bedroom. At least, not openly... _

_Thare was something deeper too, a bond of trust between the two. A timid, delicate trust Desmond would have to be extra careful not to brake as he taught the other lessons that could never be learned from the pages of a book._

The sleeping Desmond rolled over in bed, his left arm falling off the side of the queen mattress he shared with his fellow assassin/current lover, Shaun. As he dreamed, something in the back of Desmond's subconscious triggered a feeling of guilt and his dreaming mind steadily acted on it. Editing the dreamt scenario accordingly.

_Desmond felt the soft press of a chest against his back as Shaun leaned over his shoulder, calmly observing how his twin brother was stretched out under the other assassin. Even though he was still holding his indifferent attitude, Desmond could still detect notes of the perverse excitement Shaun was hiding._

"_Give him a little more, he can take it." Shaun instructed, his left hand sliding all the way down Desmond's back his fingers gently prodding- _

Shaun's eyes flew open with a near addible snap, wrenched cruelly from his own slumber by the lewd moans and grunts coming from the other side of the bed. The historian grumbled into his pillow weighing up his options for dealing with this nuisance.

Normally he wouldn't have paused before going over there, flipping that twat onto his stomach, and giving him something to moan about. But this morning he was still tired out from yesterday's uncomfortable events, and it seemed he lacked the energy needed for early morning intercourse er… I mean, dealing with Desmond properly. Sadly, just lying still didn't seem to be an option because that infernal moaning was getting louder. So Shaun did what any decent boyfriend would have done, and kicked the sod's sorry arse out of bed.

Desmond hit the floor for the second time in as many hours, his lovely dream world shattering, and just when it was getting good to! "Ow, Shaun! What the hell?" he groaned his fingers digging into the side of the mattress as he pulled himself back up.

"You're keeping me up with your wet dreams again." Shaun muttered, rolling over so his back was to the ex-bartender, adding; "it's time for you to get up anyway, so why don't you go have a shower?..And take care of your morning wood while you're at it. Because, as said like the English accented bastard that I am, I'm too knackered to shag you."

Desmond frowned and crossed his arms over his chest, but did as he was bayed. Leaving for the bath room in a huff of irritation, that didn't completely cover the fact that he was aroused to the point of discomfort.

Surrounded by hot water and glass Desmond finally found time to think, reliving what he remembered of his dream. Letting the images flash behind his eyes, focusing only on indulging himself in his latest deep dark fantasy.

It wasn't until after completion that his mind returned to planet earth, and that old nagging sense of guilt began to claw back up into his head. Sure, technically it was only a dream, but it was a dream that had come close to reality for a few brief moments yesterday afternoon.

It wasn't that he didn't still like Shaun, He loved Shaun! He was the snarky, condescending, British yin to his gruff and cynical American yang. As far as there sex life went, Desmond was no less attracted to him as he had been the time they had that tussle in the backseat of Lucy's car.

But then thare was Danny… Shaun's secret adorable brother. Having only met him yesterday he hadn't learned much about the man, but Desmond had gotten the impression that he was a kindhearted, reserved individual. With a habit of getting himself into strange circumstances.

Danny had this ability to intrigue Desmond to no end. He was just like his lover, only not at all at the same time. It was so odd to see Shaun's mouth open, hear his voice speaking, but have the words contrast almost completely with the personality.

Aside from the mental interest thare was a physical one as well, imagine being in-between two identical copies of the body he knew and loved so completely... Just thinking about it made Desmond heat up, After all, who doesn't dream of twins? And besides was it really cheating if Shaun was there to? Hum… he would have to look this up.

Desmond gave the faucet a quick turn to shut it off and stepped out of the shower, looking himself over in the steam covered mirror as he wrapped a towel around his waist, running a hand over his short hair to dispel a few water droplets.

Once he was fully clothed, Desmond made his way to the kitchenette for breakfast. Walking by the dining room table where the bespectacled Brit was sitting, taking long slow sips of his usual daybreak mug of tea.

"Morning Shaun" Desmond greeted as he passed, adding a hint of hostility to indicate he hadn't forgotten about the rude awakening this morning.

"Shaun?" the man in the chair turned and raised his eyebrows at Desmond. The assassin blinked, suddenly realising his mistake. "Er.. Sorry Danny..." he apologised smiling nervously. Trying to ignore the Images of his dream that began to rise and prod him sternly in the back of the head. That combined with the oh-so recent memories of having his hand down those well-fitted jeans convinced Desmond to make a speedy retreat into the kitchen.

Strong fingers gripped the counter for support as their owner forcefully turned his thoughts to pancakes, orange juice, scrambled eggs, sausages…. Ok maybe not sausages, but everything else breakfast related.

Desmond quickly located some toast and then after a little more searching he found the toaster too. Putting the two together before getting his customary glass of juice. Casting a glance back at the man in the other room as he pored it into a glass.

Danny had been forced to stay the night at the hideout, because thanks to the little slipup that had led to their meeting, the Templar's were now actively combing the area for any assassin activity. It went without saying that letting the spitting image of the assassin's most valuable historian wander around in the middle of a templar manhunt was not a good idea.

Desmond's toast popped and the man sighed, grabbing the peanut butter and jelly from their respective cupboards and finished fixing his breakfast. Holding the plate in one hand and his juice in the other. Desmond walked back into the dining room, steeling himself to sit down at the table, across from Danny.

Illicit fantasies aside, Danny was still his boyfriend's brother and it was better to try to get along than remain in this strange and uncomfortable limbo. Not just for the sake of the relationship, but also because thare was always the possibility of Danny becoming his future brother in law.

"So er... Sleep well?" Desmond asked lamely, his brain seemingly stumped for any good conversation starters. Danny looked up from his nearly drained cup -Christ their eyes were even the same color- and shrugged. "Fine I suppose, room was nice if a little… snug." he offered.

"Sorry about that, hideouts are usually only set to handle teams of four. Luckily for you we've had an extra room since I started sleeping with Shaun." Desmond explained, only realising when Danny glanced away uneasily that perhaps he didn't need the details of his brother's sex life.

"So I hear you're a bit of a celebrity." Desmond stated, hurriedly changing the subject. Danny nodded a bit before answering "I suppose you could say that but-"

" afraid 'bit of a celebrity' is an understatement love.." both men sitting at the table looked up to find Danny's brother standing in the doorway, holding the dishes from last night's midnight snack loosely in his left hand.

"Danny's done a fair lot of interesting things since I last saw him." Shaun continued not halting his slow walk to the kitchen as he chatted at both males.

"Like what?" Desmond asked knowing all too well that was exactly what his boyfriend wanted him to ask.

"If I'm not mistaken, over the last few years he's started his own cult by accident, said yes to every offer or proposal for a year, went cross country looking for all his old high school friends, wrote acclaimed books about all three misadventures, one of which was turned into a major motion picture, I believe you've seen it Desmond, it was called 'yes man' you know the one with Jim Carrey and Zooey Deschanel?" Shaun was in the kitchen at this point but he was talking loudly enough that he could still be easily herd from the dining room.

"Wait, you're the guy who did that?" Desmond gawked, looking back at Danny, deeply impressed. Danny glanced back into his lap nodding again. Shaun's voice floated back from the other room to finish off his list of Danny's achievements..

"He's also currently king of his own micro-nation and runs a radio show, combined with a smattering of TV appearances over the last few years, talk shows, game shows, that sort of thing." Shaun finished, returning from the kitchen and sitting down on Desmond's other side.

"Wow, didn't know you'd been keeping up.." Danny muttered glancing at his brother.

"Your family Dan, I have been keeping an eye on you, not that advanced background checks were needed considering your habits." Shaun explained crossing his arms over his chest.

"Morning boys! You'll be happy to know that our operation was a success." This time it was Rebecca who interjected, breezing in through the door, dressed from head to heel in tactical urban camouflage. She flashed the boys a wild grin before dropping a full to bursting duffle bag down on the dining room table.

"What operation." Shaun was the first to ask, slowly inching away from Rebecca who was radiating heat, her cheeks flushed with the marks of an active morning.

"Er.. We don't have an official name for it, I just like to call it "secret mission: sneak-into-Danny's-flat-and-go-get-some-of-his-stuff" Rebecca explicated grabbing a seat on the table and crossing her legs in a very unwomanly manner.

"What?" this time it was Danny's turn to be confused. Thankfully Lucy, who was dressed near identically to Rebecca and also carrying a large bag entered the room. She smiled apologetically at the humorist and tried to explain the situation in a much more relaxed manner. "Sorry Danny, but we just can't risk templar detection right now.. You're going to have to stick around for a week or two."

"But what about my-" Danny started but Lucy cut him off. "We've already contacted your work, the BBC was only too happy to hear you got a temporary position working with the national charity 'aid for orphans' and will be expecting you back in a few weeks."

Danny paused for a second thinking it over before sighing exasperatedly, deciding it was better to agree to this madness than argue with a woman in full combat gear and a machine gun on her back, even if she had proven herself to be a very nice woman in full combat gear and a machine gun on her back. Desmond bit down on his grin, trying not to look too pleased about this whole affair, while Shaun visibly stiffened in the seat next to him. Caught between the chance to catch up with his long lost brother and discomfort over the presence of the very same thing.

Noticing how quiet everyone had gotten, Rebecca pushed herself off the table and turned to the others. Suddenly adopting a near offensively bad English accent. "If you blokes don't mind I'm going to hop in the shower to wash off this right bloody pong" she quipped making for the door. Shaun snapped back to life and huffed "You're not English Rebecca!" after the retreating technology geek.


	3. Movie Night

Shaun's auburn eyes glared furiously out from over the top of a reprint of an ancient historical text. His all too important database research screeching to a grinding halt as his attentions were drawn to the idling Desmond, who was slouched improperly across the couch on the other side of the living room.

Shaun bit back an irritated "humph" and placed his book back down on his desk. It wasn't so much the man himself that was getting on his nerves, but rather where his attention was focused. Desmond's brown eyes -A shade darker than his own- drew an almost traceable line all the way over to the red and white animus. His gaze focused squarely on the denim clothed behind of his beloved younger brother. Which was on full display as its owner stooped down on all fours to get a better look at the underside of the genetic memory reader.

"Ok, now connect the red sticky-out bit to the blue connector..." Rebecca instructed from her desk. Fingers clacking at the keyboard as she tried to figure out the reason her "Baby" was leaking coolant fluid all over the nice hardwood floor of the assassin's London hideout. Danny murmured something along the lines of "ok, sure" and shifted to grasp the required cables. Shaun watched with growing distaste as Desmond's male gaze followed the movement.

"Aright… um, is the greenish clip connected to the adaptor plug? You know the one that looks like the letter L ate to many tacos?" Rebecca asked leaning over the edge of the desk to check on Danny's progress. The author pointed up into the bowels of the machine and Rebecca nodded. "Good, unplug it then." She ordered sitting back up in her chair.

It didn't take long after the confirmation of Danny's extended stay for the animus technician to recruit him as her assistant. Despite his complete and utter lack of any of the qualifications needed to be running such an advanced piece of technology, like always Danny had made up for it with a positive attitude and pure dogged determination. Of course a little scaling back in the technical terms had helped as well.

"What are we doing with the thing that looks like a bunny with no ears?" Rebecca craned her neck to see the part that Danny was pointing to and replied "leave it for now, but if you see a connecter cable with an attachment shaped like a piece of Swiss cheese, make sure you check if it's yellow light is blinking."

Shaun picked his book back up, trying once more to get lost in the politics of an Elizabethan united kingdom. However he didn't get past the next few pages before two familiar hoodie clad arms wrapped around his waist and he caught a whiff of the all-too-familiar sent of Cheese burgers, apple pie, smog, bad politics and everything else American and stupid.

"Sup, my darling?" Desmond asked nuzzling into the hollow of his boyfriends neck. Shaun decisively ignored the greeting turning the page of his book to emphasise the fact that he was busy. Desmond frowned and drew back. For a second Shaun breathed a sigh of relief, believing he had convinced the hoodie wearing ninny to shut up and go away. Sadly, he turned out to be mistaken when he felt the hand reappear around his hips and pull his cardigan out for where it was tucked into his pants, allowing Desmond's fingers under both it and his undershirt so it could side up and trace over the flat expanse of his chest.

"Desmond!" Shaun protested, as he felt the warm press of the American's kiss just above the collar of his cardigan, Desmond's lips parted and he begin leaving feather light bite marks all over the Brit's exposed neck.

The book landed on the floor with a thump and for a moment Shaun's brain stopped to wonder if it had been damaged, he was pushed back against his own desk and the area between his legs was suddenly occupied by Desmond's hips. Shaun's eyes closed as he leaned back against the table, letting Desmond continue to cover him in heated kisses and hungry nips.

In the back of his mind Shaun was conflicted. Desmond was not usually this forward, even in the most intense of moments when they were in bed for hours and he had mercilessly teased Desmond to the point of frustration, he had somehow kept his stoic and reserved nature, never demanding anything of Shaun, never the less pinning him to a table and just taking what he wanted.

Still this was a nice change of pace, not to be the one in control just this one time. Back pressed flat against his desk Shaun found himself with an excellent view of the expansive ceiling, his eyes drawn to the animus's screens and cables that dangled from the roof. Using it as a means of keeping his mind from focusing on the slow slide of Desmond's palm over his abdomen.

"Hey Shaun.." Desmond almost growled as a few of his fingers slid under the waistband of the other's trousers. Shaun gulped and nodded vaguely desperately wishing that that teasing hand would venture just a little further.

"You wouldn't happen, to know what movies your brother likes would you?" he asked, the lustful tones turning the normally ordinary question into the richest form of provocation. Shaun arched into the other's touch supplying the answered on auto pilot, he murmured "he's quite fond of Ghostbusters I think... Did a quiz show on it once, geek that he is didn't get a signal one wron-" the last words were silenced by Desmond's lips, then his tongue. Shaun's thoughts dissipated faster than a flock of birds upon spotting a hungry fox.

After a few more long moments that Desmond spent testing the sharpness of Shaun's molars the ex-bartender finally pulled back, leaning in one last time to purr the words "Thanks, sweetie" into his boyfriend's ear before backing off.

In the mess of limbs Shaun's glasses had fallen askew, and by the time he fixed them the ex-bartender was already at the entrance of the hideout. The bang of the door slamming shut behind his lover made Shaun wince, but it wasn't anywhere near as painful as the empty silence that ensued after he was gone.

Or at least it was silent until Rebecca couldn't stifle her giggles anymore and her tittering echoed around the room. Shaun glared back at her, but his eyes didn't stay on her for long before it drifted back to Danny who was sitting beside the animus. A rather uncomfortable feeling washed over the historian as he realised that his kin must have seen the whole encounter and the way Danny awkwardly avoided his glance only confirmed it.

Rebecca sighed deeply and placed a hand on Danny shoulder "you'll get used to it" she grinned "those two put bunnies to shame" Danny laughed nervously attempting to shrug it off before sliding back under the animus intent on finding the cube with seven sides and a triangular accesses port.

Shaun turned back to his work, taking solace in the fact that his brother was at the very least accepting of his preferences...and a self identified metro-sexual...whatever the hell that was. Also he was probably too far away to have herd Desmond's heated questions about his favourite movie choices. So it was likely best to just pretend it never happened.

Shaun had no idea why Desmond had wanted to know such trivial facts, or indeed why he had chosen that 'method' to gain the answers, but what he did know was that he would have to put a lid on whatever was going on in that twit's mind before it got out of hand.

Unfortunately by the time Desmond got back with a full Ghostbusters box-set and a stupid grin on his lips, Lucy was dead set on shoving him back in the newly repaired animus before Shaun could get a word with him. Cue five hours of watching Ezio make an arse of himself all over Italy flowed by screaming, mild hallucinations, then getting stuck on the couch with Desmond and Danny wishing this movie would hurry up and end.

Eventually it was over, and as the credits rolled, Desmond cast a stray glance across the couch to Shaun who was resting his head in his hand, a look of annoyed boredom written plainly on his face. "Typical" Desmond muttered to himself. Growing board of his partner, He allowed his gaze to slip to Shaun's twin brother who was slumped between them. He must have fallen asleep sometime after the statue of liberty started making its way down the streets of New York.

Shaun gingerly took the remote from his brother's lap and turned off the TV. The light flickered out, and would have left the three of them in complete darkness if it weren't for the soft moonlight streaming in from the large windows in the loft. Even with the lowered light, Desmond's stare didn't shift from Danny, who was resting against the back of the sofa his chest falling and rising slowly as he slept.

Shaun's glasses caught the light as he fixed Desmond with a scathing look that just managed to draw the ex-bartender's attention away from his twin. Desmond looked back, shrugged and muttered "He's cute" as if that was some sort of explanation.

Unimpressed, Shaun crossed his arms over his chest. "Don't get too attached, Dan is going home tomorrow Templars or not." He explained his tone unmistakably adamant despite the fact he knew he couldn't guarantee any such thing.

Desmond looked crestfallen. "Really? But I like having two of you around." He protested. Then after a beat he added "Well, two of you except one isn't a complete jerk."

"Desmond..." Shaun warned, clearly showing he was not in the mood for his petty American wit. Ignoring him, the newbie assassin went on, "You're also much more fun when Danny's around. I mean you've never let me watch any good movies with you before."

Shaun sighed exasperatedly, he could explain exactly why he hated those immature excuses for entertainment later, and instead decided it was high time he put his foot down. "This isn't up for debate Desmond." he insisted looking the other in the eyes, trying to exercise the thin vale of dominance he had had over the other since thare relationship began.

Desmond frowned and looked up despondently at Shaun. His gaze only held for a moment before it switched to the Brit's brother then back again. Suddenly the dejection on his face slipped off. His eyes widening as a playful smile grew on his lips. "You're not jealous, are you Shaun? Cause you know, I could handle both of you..." Desmond suggested leaning over Danny to get a better look at Shaun's reaction.

The silence from the other side of the sofa was almost deafening.

It wasn't until after they had woken Danny up and seen him to his room that Shaun acknowledged Desmond again, waiting till the moment they were behind closed doors before rounding on him. "You're a gigantic bloody pervert, you know that..." Shaun snapped slowly switching into rant mode as he walked in circles around the room, as if he needed the movement to think clearly. "I should have seen this coming when you were… eye rapeing him this morning, but I never thought you would even dare to suggest something like that.."

Desmond wandered over to their shared bed sitting down to watch his boyfriend. All things considered he should be feeling rather uneasy about having voiced his idea to his lover and to have met with such a negative reaction. However he knew Shaun better than anyone, and something in his gut told him that the Brit was not disgusted or put off by the concept. In fact it didn't even feel as if Shaun was really talking to him, his words were never directed completely towards the other assassin and his tone had that confused air of someone who was suffering a fair bit of inner conflict.

"Well… there was never any harm in asking..." the assassin in training replied, determined to keep as calm as possible about the situation. If he could work this the right way, he just might still have a shot at seeing his newest fantasy come true.

"You just don't get it do you?" Shaun insinuated storming right up to the assassin and prodding him in the chest with an accusatory index finger. Desmond sighed and looked Shaun in the eyes, taking on a consolatory tone of voice "fine… Tell me oh mighty Shaun, what is it exactly I don't get?" Desmond waited for a response, and Shaun opened his mouth, but then stopped when his brain failed to supply him with the answer that seemed so obvious but was stubbornly eluding him.

Desmond almost grinned, but given the situation he resisted instead. He reached out to the confused historian and his fingers laced into the front of Shaun's soft Gary cardigan. In his mind's eye he turned a small dial labeled "Seduction switch" up to the medium level adding a little bit of a dominant edge to his voice. "Okay, how about this." He murmured pulling Shaun down onto the bed with him. "I will drop the whole idea, stop ogling your brother, and pretend like this never happened… " the briefest trace of relief and perhaps a bit of disappointment showed on Shaun face before Desmond finished his statement "..But only if you look me in the eyes, and tell me that you really don't find the idea the least bit appealing..."

Shaun was lost for words again. Desmond leaned over his historian and waited, deciding to finally let that grin he was holding back form on his lips. Five moment of silence later and the ex-bartender felt he had his answer.

"I knew it..." he scoffed rolling over off of Shaun and onto his side of the bed. "Look…"Shaun started making a point to look everywhere but in Desmond's direction. "It's complicated, you see me and Danny used to..." hearing this Desmond sat up again, sensing a good story. "You used to do what?" he prompted trying not to sound too eager. Shaun glared at him, deciding now was not a good time to be sharing secrets and instead attempted to change the topic. "We were just experimenting teenagers, I don't even know if he's still interested in playing for the other team."

"Well we just need to ask him if he's interested" Desmond concluded rather confidently. Shaun blinked and regarded him with no little amount of incredulity as he clarified the point. "You're not seriously suggesting we actually ask my brother if he would like to be part of some fucked up threesome." Desmond frowned wishing Shaun didn't have to be quite so blunt all the time.

"There are other ways to ask without using things as direct as words…" he replied slowly, reaching over to Shaun and running a hand down the Brit's left hip. Shaun smirked and nodded conceding to Desmond's point as the assassin's other hand join the first and wrapped around his back to pull them closer together.

"If you can prove to me that he would be willing… then maybe I'll consider it... but just maybe..." Shaun murmured. Desmond gave him that cocky grin again and leaned in for a kiss, sliding his hand up the back of Shaun's shirt that was still un-tucked from the hit and run make out Desmond had given him this morning.


End file.
